Rise Above or Sink Below
by fulltimeloser
Summary: In the wake of Sovereign's attack, Commander Annika Shepard has her life turned upside down. She must juggle duty, fame, and love while trying to keep a promise to an old friend. FemShep x Liara.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is my very first submission and I really have no clue what I'm doing. It's the first chapter of a (hopefully) bigger story, so I've kept things a little vague. However, anyone who is familiar with the game can probably figure out what's going on. Any comments (good or bad) would be **greatly appreciated!**

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is owned by Bioware and Microsoft. I'm poor. Please don't sue.

* * *

**Rise Above or Sink Below**

Chapter One

* * *

Commander Annika Shepard sat at her desk, and stared, disbelieving, into the monitor. On the screen, a picture of herself stared back. She ran her hands through her fiery red hair, tucking it behind her ears, and let out a long, sad sigh. Unlike most of the others she had seen, this picture wasn't another photo-op handshake. Instead, it was an image taken from a Citadel security camera. It showed her standing amid the ruins of the Presidium, her face wrinkled in anger, unloading a shotgun round into a Geth's chest plate. The headline above scrolled by…….

"_HUMAN SPECTRE'S WEAPON OF CHOICE? A Palaven Sentinel Exclusive Report…. …………HUMAN SPECTRE'S WEAPON OF-" _

A light flashed on the screen, indicating her extranet search had another hit. Keying on the entry, Shepard crossed her fingers.

"_Good evening, and welcome to the Al-Jilani report, I'm Kalisah Al-Jilanl. We've all gotten to know Annika Shepard quite well in the last month or so, but some things about the 'Savior of the Citadel' are still a mystery."_

"Oh shit." Shepard felt a wave a nausea wash over her.

"_Tonight, the Al-Jilani report asks, is there a Mr. Shepard in the Commander's life?"_

Shepard shut off the screen and stood. Walking away from her desk, she rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder, trying to ease the tension that suddenly permeated her body

"Palaven Sentinel? Kalisah Al-Jilani?" she asked her empty room. "Is this ever going to end?"

Nearly a month had passed since Sovereign's attack on the Citadel, and Annika Shepard was still headline news. Emily Wong had gotten the ball rolling, publishing the first reports of Shepard's heroics mere hours after the attack. Within two days, the Systems Alliance Public Relations Office had to shut down, having been overwhelmed with requests for interviews with the commander. Video coverage of the ceremony honoring those who died in the attack was fed live to every news agency in Citadel space. Her speech, at barely five minutes long, was nonetheless the most watched event of the day.

At first, Shepard didn't mind the attention. In times of war, people need heroes to look up to. Alliance brass wanted to put her on a pedestal, to use her as a symbol of humanity's fighting spirit. She was happy to play the role, to make the speeches, to shake the hands, to pose for the photographs. However, she did so with the assumption that interest in her would eventually wane. It never did. Now, she felt like a victim of her own success.

"_How am I supposed to perform the duties of a Spectre when I can't even have a drink in the embassy bar without drawing a crowd?"_ she had asked the Council.

They had no answers for her. "_We are, all of us, in what you humans call 'uncharted territory' now."_ the Salarian councilor had told her.

"_Spectres have to be able to adapt quickly to changes in the world around them." _the Turian Councilor had said, in a slightly condescending tone. _"Your newfound fame is something you're going to have to learn to live with, Commander, and fast." _

The Asari Councilor had little else to offer. _"Dealing with the consequences of your actions is just as important as the actions themselves. I recognize the uniqueness of your situation, Commander Shepard. But I have faith you will rise above it."_

It was only Captain Anderson, now Councilor Anderson, who offered any helpful advice. _"I'm not going to lie to you, Shepard. You're in a tough spot. But you're still the same person you were before this whole mess started. Don't let the spotlight you're under blind you. Stay true to yourself and your crew, and you'll be alright."_

Shepard walked over to her bed, and looked down at the dress uniform she had laid out earlier in the day. "You'll be alright." she repeated to herself. "Easy for you to say, Councilor."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Commander Shepard stood on the Normandy's bridge, and marveled at the silence. Her ship was a ghost town, emptied of all non-essential personnel by Alliance Command. Rebuilding the fifth fleet, and aiding in the repair of the Citadel, was shaping up to be the largest construction project ever undertaken by the Systems Alliance. Ships were being brought in from as far away as the Kepler Verge, and every boot shiner and pencil pusher who could work an omni-tool was ordered to pitch in. 

The ranks were stretched _so_ thin that it took a call to Admiral Hackett himself for Shepard to get the OK she needed. Even then, she was only allotted a skeleton crew, and a very short time table to complete her mission.

Behind her, the hallway leading to the CIC was vacant, save for Navigator Pressly, who was dutifully keeping tabs on the ship's automated systems.

"Kinda spooky, isn't it Commander?"

"Spooky, Joker?"

"Don't tell me the quiet doesn't weird you out a little." Joker craned his neck to look up at the Commander, "it sorta reminds me of my grandmother's nursing home."

"It's definitely unusual, but I wouldn't call it spooky." Shepard turned and looked back towards the CIC, noting how much smaller the galaxy map looked without anyone standing around it. "A little sad, maybe. Not spooky."

"Well, whatever you want to call it," Joker turned back to face his controls, "I still don't like it. But if you don't mind me asking, ma'am?"

Shepard turned her attention back to her navigator. "Go ahead, Joker."

"What's with the dress uniform? We won't reach Eden Prime for another six hours."

Shepard glanced down at the navy blue jacket she wore, and absently brushed away a few errant fibers. "I don't know. I guess I wanted to get it out of the way."

"Well, you look very….. commanding in it, Commander."

Giving Joker a wry smirk, Shepard ran two fingers behind the collar of her jacket, and gave a tug. "Well, thanks... I think. I've always hated these things."

"Captain Anderson never seemed to have a problem with 'em."

"That's an understatement. I doubt he ever took-" Shepard cut herself off mid-sentence as she heard footsteps approaching from behind her. Turning around, she met the gaze of Liara T'Soni, and gave her a warm grin. "Hello Liara."

Returning the Commander's smile, Liara stepped onto the bridge. "Commander, Lieutenant Moreau."

Joker grimaced in mock agony. "For the tenth time, it's Joker."

"Forgive me, Lieutenant Joker. I still require some practice when it comes to such things as human nicknames."

Joker swung around to face the affable Asari. "OK, first? It's a call sign, not a nickname. Second, it's Joker. Not Lieutenant Joker, not Jeff Joker, not Joker Moreau, or anything else. Just Joker."

Before Liara could respond, Shepard held up a hand to stop her. "OK, just Joker. Just fly the ship, alright?"

Joker swung back around, pulled his cap tight over his eyes, and gave Shepard a gruff response. "Yes ma'am."

"Good. Liara and I are going below to get things ready."

* * *

As Shepard and Liara approached the stairs that led down to the quarter deck, a lone guard snapped to attention and saluted. Shepard nodded to the guard, and keyed the door control. 

Shepard was three or four steps down, with Liara right behind, when she heard the door hiss shut. The instant they were out of sight, Liara grabbed Shepard's arm, and spun the Commander around to face her. For a second, the two women stood motionless, staring into each other's eyes. Liara was the first to move, wrapping her arm around Shepard's waist, and pulling her close. Shepard let out a sharp gasp before their lips came together in a passionate kiss.

Shepard's hands hovered inches away from the Asari for a moment, her fingers outstretched and taut, before grabbing hold and squeezing the alien beauty tight against her. Continuing their heated embrace, Shepard's hands began to travel up and down Liara's lithe frame, her fingers tracing the delicate curves of her body.

"By the Goddess, I have missed you, Shepard." Liara breathed into her lover's ear.

"Miss me?" Shepard chuckled. "Did you forget last night? And this _morning_?"

"Of course not." Liara giggled, grabbing Shepard's collar and pulling her into another lengthy kiss. Minutes passed before either woman parted lips to catch their breath.

"Spending the last three weeks on Ilos was not what I expected." Liara said, leaning her forehead against Shepard's. "Even though I was fulfilling a life-long dream, I often found myself distracted."

"What do you mean?"

Pulling back slightly, she continued. "I could not stop thinking about you, Shepard. Not an hour passed when you were not in my thoughts." Liara suddenly grew self conscious, and her gaze fell to the floor. "I am all but certain that my research suffered because of my inability to focus." She looked back into Shepard's eyes. "But honestly, Shepard… I do not care."

"That's the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me." Shepard gently brushed her fingers across Liara's cheeks before tenderly kissing her once again.

Liara responded by darting her tongue deep into her lover's mouth. Running a hand up Shepard's thigh and across her chest, she teasingly popped a clasp on the Commander's jacket.

Shepard gasped in surprise. She began to feel lightheaded as shivers shot up and down her spine. Her hands clasped onto the back of Liara's uniform, filling each fist with the stretchy material. With one fluid motion, she pushed her Asari lover up against the bulkhead and slid both of her hands down Liara's back. The Asari moaned with arousal, the sound muffled by Annika's tongue as it danced with her own.

The Normandy's hull shuddered slightly, a fairly common occurrence in the overpowered ship, but it was enough to bring Shepard out of her haze. Her eyes snapped open.

Pulling away from Liara's mouth, she tried to collect herself. "We've got to stop, Liara," she strained to speak against the intoxication of longing.

"We still have some time before we land." Liara ran a hand through Shepard's hair, and began trailing kisses down the redhead's neck. "Take me to your quarters."

Shepard's eyes rolled around in her head, momentarily surrendering to desire. But the thought of her impending duties brought her back to reality once again. "Please, Liara. Stop. We have lots of work to do."

Liara relaxed her grip on the Commander, exhaled deeply, and gazed back into Shepard's bright blue eyes. "I am sorry." She ran a blue finger along the scar under Shepard's right eye. "You fascinate me, Shepard. I find that when I am around you, I have trouble controlling my more…. _primitive_… impulses."

The commander smiled wide, and held the Asari's face in her hands. "You fascinate me too, Liara." Shepard leaned in once more, kissing her softly on the lips, before continuing down the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: This chapter introduces my only semi-original charcter of any consequence, so please don't let him scare you away. Also, I reference an obscure Citadel mission that is easily missed in the game. If you don't remember meeting a holier-than-thou Hanar on the Presidium, the beginning of this chapter might confuse you. Anyway, please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is owned by Bioware and Microsoft. I'm saving for an HDTV, so please don't sue.

* * *

**Rise Above or Sink Below**

Chapter Two

* * *

"_This one was merely trying to teach the wisdom of the Enkindlers, but an honorable C-Sec officer took offense to its words. He attempted to prevent this one from speaking."_

"_You say that the Commander gave you a great gift?"_

"_Yes. The one you call Shepard used her own credits to purchase an evangelical license for this one. She blessed this one with the power to spread the joy of the Enkindlers to others"_

"_Well, there you have it. Another life touched by the Savior of the Citadel. I'm Ed Wyland, back to Kalisah in the studio." _

_Thanks a lot, Ed. Welcome back to the Al-Jilani report, everyone. We've got breaking news from the Citadel. The Normandy is missing! According to our sources on the station, the ship left its dock sometime late last night. No public flight plan was filed, but we've got the inside scoop into where it might - "_

Leonard Jenkins keyed off the monitor, and took another sip of his coffee. The room fell into silence, save for the steady ticking of a grandfather clock. The first hints of sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window, signaling the end of another long night. Soon, the house would fill with the reddish glow of the Eden Prime sun, and Leonard would have to struggle through another day without any sleep. Rising from the kitchen table, Leonard grabbed hold of a chair to steady himself. Years of farming on the new world had taken its toll. His sixty year old frame wasn't nearly as strong as it once was, and he often had trouble keeping his balance.

The grandfather clock hit the top of the hour, and six crisp tones rang throughout the house. Leonard glanced back to the monitor. The time glowed in the bottom left corner.

5:58

Making his way over to the antique timepiece, he absently brushed his hand along a family portrait that hung on the wall. Reaching up to adjust the ornate dials of the clock, Leonard abruptly stopped. "What's the point?" he asked the empty room.

In the distance, a familiar noise caught Leonard's attention. It was the unmistakable sound of someone walking up the gravel pathway in front of his house. Leonard shook his head in disgust. "Who is it this time?" he asked, walking towards the front door. "How many times do I have to tell my so-called 'friends' that I'm fine?"

He swung open the door.

A Salarian stood on his front porch. He had a microphone in his hand, and a camera pod hovering behind him. Leonard was so surprised; he nearly jumped out of his slippers. "What in hell fire?" he shouted.

"Mr. Jenkins?"

"Yeah?"

The Salarian held up his hands, trying to calm the old man. "I apologize for startling you. Are you the father of a Corporal Richard Jenkins, recently deceased?"

"What is this about?"

"Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

* * *

"This is…" Annika Shepard nervously rubbed the back of her neck, "…problematic." 

Her honor guard stood in the empty cargo bay, their heads hung low. The palette of supplies that they were using as a practice casket lay broken on the floor, having been accidentally dropped a few seconds earlier.

"Look…. We don't have to be perfect, but we have to be better than this." Shepard gestured at the pile of boxes in front of her. "Let's… let's practice folding the flag again."

Shepard couldn't let herself get too upset with her honor guard. They were, in actuality, just two security guards and her requisition officer. None of them had much experience with military funerals. After two hours of practice, however, she expected them to be farther along than this. She stood with her hands on her hips, and watched as the three men began to fold and shape the flag.

Out of the corner of her eye, Shepard caught the elevator door slowly open. The figure that stepped out took her breath away.

Liara had changed out of her casual lab attire, and was now wearing the most striking gown Commander Shepard had ever seen. It was almost entirely white, save for a strip of silver that lined the edges of the fabric. The gown clung tightly to Liara's figure, hugging her subtle curves in all the right places. A slit ran up the side of the gown, ending just below the knee, which afforded a teasing glimpse of Liara's legs.

"Ma'am? What do you think?" the requisition officer asked.

"Incredible…" she replied.

"Really?" one of the security guards asked, incredulously.

_Shit, did I just say that? _Shepard suddenly realized that she had been staring, and felt a twinge of embarrassment. Shifting her eyes back to the men in front of her, she quickly composed herself. "What was that, ensign?"

"The flag, Commander. What do you think?"

_Maybe they didn't notice. _The young man held up a triangle of fabric that was so lopsided, it could barely hold itself together.

Shepard felt her anxiety level spike once again. She rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder, and took a deep breath. "As a requisition officer, you have to be a good judge of quality, right?"

"You bet, Commander."

"Then tell me," Shepard gestured at the flag, "does that look like quality to you?"

"Absolutely not, Commander." The young man responded, the hint of a smirk on his face.

Shepard cast another glance back to Liara, who stood patiently by the elevator. "Gentlemen, in less than three hours, we're going to be laying to rest one of our own. I expect you to have this routine memorized before then, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." the three men responded in unison.

Shepard turned and walked away without saying another word. Her gaze fell back upon the young Asari standing in the corner, and she again found herself short of breath. Even though the gown covered her entire body, leaving only her head and hands visible, it made Liara exude a kind of femininity that Shepard had never seen before. The image was intoxicating, and Shepard had to fight a sudden urge to grab Liara by the arm, and drag her off to someplace more private.

Shepard flashed a coy smile as she approached her Asari lover. "You look like you're going to a wedding, not a funeral."

Liara's eyes opened wide, and she nervously looked down at her dress. "What? I am sorry, Shepard. I did not realize that it was inappropriate to - "

"Liara…"

"Yes, Shepard?"

"Relax." Shepard ran a hand down the Asari's arm, and playfully intertwined their fingers. "You look incredible."

Liara met Shepard's gaze, and gave her a warm smile. "As do you. But if you think I will look out of place..."

"Absolutely not." Shepard let her eyes sweep up and down the length of Liara's body. "Don't even think about changing into something else."

"I was hoping you would say that. This dress is traditional attire for an Asari passage ceremony."

"Passage ceremony? You mean Asari don't have funerals?" Shepard gave a quick glance over her shoulder, making sure her men weren't eavesdropping.

"Not in the way humans do, no. Most Asari believe that death is merely a passage; a merging of one's spiritual energy back into the universal consciousness. It is a time of celebration, not of mourning."

Shepard sensed a bit of hesitation in Liara's voice. "_Most _Asari?"

"Well... I admit, my beliefs are - "

The speaker above Shepard's head crackled to life. "Joker here, Commander. I've got a call for you coming in from Eden Prime."

"Who is it, Joker?" Shepard replied, although she had a pretty good idea of who it was.

"It's Jenkins' dad, Commander. He says it's important."

_Damn. _Shepard let go of Liara's hand, and stepped toward the elevator. "I'll take it in my quarters, Joker."

* * *

"How many are there?" Shepard tried not to let the panic come through in her voice, but she was growing more and more agitated with every passing second. 

The man on her monitor didn't look like he was doing much better. "There are five of 'em in my front yard as we speak, Commander. Four humans and a Salarian, and they've all got cameras pointed in my windows."

Shepard cast a nervous glance at Liara, who was sitting across the room. _She doesn't know._ She looked back at the man on her screen. _I should've told her everything, the moment she returned.._

"Mr. Jenkins, I…. I don't know what to say."

"An apology would be a good place to start. You told me that nobody knew you were coming. You told me I was gonna get to bury my boy in private."

"I did everything I could to keep my flight a secret, Leonard. This was the last thing I wanted to happen."

"Yeah? Well, tell that to the reporters in front of my house, Commander." With that, Shepard's screen went black.

The room was spinning. Shepard could feel the sweat forming on her brow. All the planning, all the secrecy, it was all for nothing. They had found her, and she had no idea what she was going to do about it. She hung her head low, and rubbed the back of her neck. Slowly, she spun around in her chair to face Liara.

"Shepard, what has happened? What is wrong?"

Shepard leaned forward, and stared across at the woman who had brought such unexpected joy to her life; the woman she would now have to shield from the madness that seemed to follow her everywhere. "Liara, we have to talk."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: After a two week battle with pneumonia, I've finally got another chapter ready. To those of you still here, thank you very much. I really appreciate you taking the time to read my story. As always, all comments (good or bad) are welcome.

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is owned by Bioware and Microsoft. Cough syrup laced with codine is the greatest thing in the universe, ever.

* * *

**Rise Above or Sink Below**

Chapter Three

* * *

The two women sat on the edge of the bed, inches apart. They were as close as two people could be, but a rift was beginning to form between them.

"I returned from Ilos two days ago. Why did you wait so long to tell me this?"

"I don't know… I guess I was hoping this trip would go unnoticed, but I should've known better."

"Shepard, do you wish to end our relationship?"

"No, no… God, no. I just…"

"Want to keep it a secret." Liara responded, finishing Shepard's sentence.

"Not a secret…" Looking into the eyes of the Asari sitting next to her, Shepard felt her willpower begin to melt away. _This was a bad idea, _she thought. On top of her mounting anxiety, she was beginning to feel terribly guilty. But she couldn't stop now. "We just need to… we need to be… careful… about who sees us together."

"Why?"

Shepard gestured back to the monitor on her desk. "This quiet little flight of ours is about to become a three ring media circus."

Liara's eyes darted from Shepard, to the monitor, and back again. She shook her head in confusion. "Do I embarrass you, Shepard?"

The words made Shepard wince as another pang of guilt struck her. "Of course not."

"Is it because your species considers me female?"

"No!" Shepard recoiled, raising her voice in frustration. "Look, it's just…"

"I admit, my knowledge of such things is limited, but I was under the impression that relationships such as ours…" Liara began gesturing wildly, trying to find words for what she was feeling. "As in, two people of the same gender… were somewhat common amongst humans."

"They are." Shepard retorted. "It… uhhh…" now it was Shepard who was struggling to find the right words to say. "It has nothing to do with that. It has nothing to do with you at all."

"Then..." Liara grimaced in frustration, then suddenly stood and walked away. "None of this makes any sense!"

"Liara, please…" Shepard reached out to grab the young Asari by the arm, but she pulled away. "Please, you've got to understand."

"Understand?" Liara spun around, and glared back at Shepard. "What, precisely, am I supposed to understand, Shepard?"

"That I'm just trying to protect you."

"I told you once before that I do not require your protection, Shepard." Liara replied, throwing her arms up in frustration. "Why do you continue to insist otherwise?"

"You don't know what it's been like for me the last three weeks, Liara." Shepard rose, and began walking towards the young Asari standing near the door. "It turns out that there's a down side to saving the galaxy."

"You are referring to the press…"

"My life isn't my own anymore. I've become a walking, talking recruitment poster for the Alliance. Everything I do is front page news. Everywhere I go, cameras follow." Shepard reached back, and rubbed the back of her neck in a vain attempt to relieve some of the tension that was beginning to overwhelm her. "Just this morning, I saw that bitch, _Al-Jilani_, run a story questioning my love life. If she finds out we're sleeping together, you'll lead her to Benezia. Benezia will lead her to Saren. You'll be sucked into a tabloid shit storm."

Liara's gaze fell to the floor, and her voice grew soft. "I see. So, you believe that by concealing our relationship, I will be shielded from the prying eyes of the media."

"More or less… yes." Shepard half shrugged.

For a moment, both women stood in silence, neither one knowing what to do or say. Liara held a hand up to her forehead, and took several deep breaths. It was a habit Shepard had begun to recognize soon after she met the young Asari. Shepard knew what it meant too. Her Asari lover was frustrated, but trying hard to overcome it.

Before Shepard could say anything, Liara raised her head and stared back at Shepard once more. Her expression had changed. She seemed relaxed, content. Liara stepped forward, reached out, and lovingly brushed her hand against Shepard's cheek. The sensation was electric, and it caught Shepard off guard. She had to close her eyes tight to keep herself from bursting into tears.

"I appreciate your intentions, Shepard. However, your reasoning includes a fatal assumption."

_Spoken like a true scientist…_Shepard swallowed hard, and stared back into Liara's eyes. "Which is?"

"That I give a damn what the press has to say about me."

Shepard let out a short, nervous laugh. It was the first time she had ever heard Liara, or any Asari for that matter, use any kind of profanity. For a moment, she considered thowing caution to the wind, and dropping her whole argument. If Liara was willing to live under Shepard's spotlight, maybe she should let her. But…

"It's not that simple, Liara." Shepard turned, and faced away from her. "I… I…" Shepard became lightheaded as a sudden wave of nausea washed over her. It was the same stomach wrenching pain she felt after Udina had locked down the Normandy. Only this time it was much worse. Deep in her gut, something long buried was stirring, unwinding, unraveling. She had to get out of there. "I've gotta go check on the body."

If Liara had noticed Shepard's sudden panic, she didn't let on. "I will go with you."

"No!" she retorted. "No… let me do this alone, alight?" Shepard did her best to sound calm.

"Very well, Shepard." Liara replied, sounding worn down and beaten.

Without saying another word, Shepard was out the door, leaving behind the only person in the galaxy who could help her.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Leonard. Real sorry, but they're not breaking any laws."

Leonard Jenkins stared at the young constable, utterly shocked at what he was hearing. "What the blazes do you mean? Look at 'em all out there!" Leonard pointed a boney finger at the large bay window in his living room. Through it, more than a dozen reporters could be seen, waiting for Commander Shepard's arrival. "They're on my property. They're trespassin, and I want 'em outta here."

The constable hung his head, and fumbled with the hat he held in his hands. "Listen, Leonard. I'm only going to explain this one more time. This house, and the yard outside, is private property. You've got every right to keep anyone you want off it." The constable cast a glance out the window, nodding his head toward the crowd outside. "But those reporter folk out there, they're not stupid. They've moved out into the corn field, which is communal property. You know that just as well as I do."

"So they can do whatever they damn-well please, as long as they're out in the crop?"

"Don't play stupid, Leonard, alright?" The young man paused a moment to cool down. "The property laws on Eden Prime are pretty basic. As long as those folks aren't destroying public property, disrupting a harvest, or creating a public nuisance, I can't force them to leave."

Leonard thrust his cane out into the air, and jabbed it at the window. "You're tellin me that they ain't a public nuisance?"

"In case you forgot, you don't exactly live downtown. One disgruntled farmer isn't enough for me to call in the riot police." The young man lowered his voice, and slumped his shoulders. He stood silent for a moment before continuing his thought. "Besides, think about what you told me earlier. Rick's coming home today, and right soon. Don't let this nonsense distract you from that."

Leonard let out a long, weary sigh. "Damn it all. You're right, you're ri- "

The sound of shattered glass stopped him mid sentence. Both men turned towards the big bay window, the source of the sound, and both men's jaws dropped. A camera pod was floating in Leonard's living room.

"Awwwww…. Now that's it. That is IT!" Leonard shouted, walking back towards his bedroom.

The constable couldn't believe what he was seeing. Someone had actually sent a camera pod up to the window to spy on them, but it got too close and broke through the glass. Now, whoever sent it was desperately trying to pilot it back out though the same hole. The young man slammed his cap back on his head, and hollered down the hallway. "Leonard, don't do anything stupid. I'll handle this."

The constable tried to grab the errant camera pod, but it just barely escaped back outside. "Leonard, I'll take car of this, OK?" he shouted, getting no response. He took one last look at the pod as it slowly floated back to the throng of reporters standing a few hundred feet away. Bolting for the front door, he swung it wide open, and mustered his best authoritative voice. "Already, now who - "

BANG! A single gunshot rang out across the valley. In a shower of sparks, the camera pod dropped like a rock, breaking in half as it hit the ground.

The constable instinctively followed the sound of the shot, and was surprised to find that it hadn't come from the house. Instead, his eyes fell upon a woman walking up the long gravel driveway in front of the Jenkins homestead. She looked vaguely Mediterranean, with dark hair and eyes, and a flawless olive complexion. She was dressed in Marine duty fatigues, and carried a duffle bag on her shoulder.

"Hot damn." the constable mumbled under his breath. "Uhhh… ma'am?" he hollered, holding up his hand. "Can I help you?"

Holstering her pistol, the woman approached the young man. "Looks like you're the one who needs help here, buddy."

The constable heard footsteps approaching from behind, and he turned to see Leonard carrying a double barreled shotgun. "Shit, Leonard! What are you gonna do with that?" he shouted.

"Nuthin I guess. Who the hell are you?" he gestured to the woman.

She flashed a wry smile. "Nice piece." she said, nodding at the weapon Leonard still gripped in his hands. "Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. I'm here to help."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: The angst-o-meter goes off the charts in this chapter, but fear not. Things will be lighter from here on out. As light as things can get at a funeral, anyway. As always, your comments (good & bad) are much appreciated.

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is owned by Bioware and... ahhh, forget it.

* * *

**Rise Above or Sink Below**

Chapter Four

* * *

Annika Shepard burst into the medical bay, dropped to her knees, and threw up.

"Commander!" Dr. Chakwas shouted as she rose from her desk. "Commander, are you alright?" 

The doctor's voice was distant, distorted, as if heard from deep underwater. Shepard tried to open her eyes, but all she saw were stars exploding all around her. The room began to fade away as a thousand different thoughts and emotions crashed down on her like a tidal wave. Visions of the future collided with memories of the past. Voices of the dead joined with those of the living to form a cacophony of dread and despair. There was the vague recognition of tightness in her chest, and a tingling sensation creeping up her arms like a swarm of ants. Losing her tenuous hold on reality, Shepard began to feel as if she was sinking through the floor. Chills swept over her. She tried to scream, but her throat was clenched shut. Through the fog of fear that clouded her mind, one image stood out; the vision of an anchor, its chains wrapped around her tight, pulling Annika down into the inky black depths.

"Easy, Commander..." the doctor urged, kneeling beside the stricken woman. She gently rubbed a hand across her back. "Slow, deep breaths..."

Shepard felt a sudden sting on her neck. The frigid waters abruptly retreated, and were replaced with the warm deck plates of the Normandy. Shepard forced herself to inhale, suddenly realizing that her lungs were screaming for air. The voices began to fade away. With each passing breath, her vision grew clearer, and the pounding in her chest subsided.

"Can you stand?" the doctor asked, sliding the dermal injector back into her pocket.

"Yeah, I think so." Shepard responded, grabbing hold of the doctor's outstretched hand. "What did you stick me with?"

"Just a mild sedative, Commander." Dr. Chakwas replied. "You'll be fine."

With help, Shepard staggered to her feet, and managed to make her way onto the nearest examination table. She sat silently, her legs dangling off the side. The doctor's omni tool lit up as she began to run some preliminary scans.

"What brought this on, Commander?"

"Just a stomach bug, I guess." Shepard spoke softly; her head slumped down over her knees.

"Well, that is unlikely. I'm not detecting any infection, viral or otherwise." Doctor Chakwas walked away for a moment, and then returned with a glass of fizzing liquid. "Here," she said, "take a few sips of this."

Shepard raised her head, and brushed her hair, now matted with sweat, away from her eyes. She stared blankly at the bubbling drink in front of her. "What is it?" she asked.

"Ginger ale." Dr. Chakwas replied. "I usually prescribe it for space sickness, but it works just as well on stress induced vomitting."

Shepard nearly choked on her first sip. "Excuse me?"

The doctor pointed to the readout on her omni tool. "Heart rate,eighty percent above normal, heightened levels of adrenaline and norepinephrine." Putting a hand on Shepard's chin, she gently lifted her head. "Dilated pupils, increased electrogalvanic activity, nausea, cold sweats," the doctor paused a moment to make sure Shepard was listening, "you had a panic attack, Commander."

_No fucking way. _

"That's not possible, doctor." Shepard rested the glass beside her. She was desperately trying to pull herself together, trying to sound as collected as possible. 

Dr. Chakwas cocked an eyebrow, and folded her arms. "I assure you, Commander; it's possible. In fact, it's highly probable."

Shepard shook her head slowly, dizziness still echoing through her mind. "I've passed every psych test there is." She looked up, and locked eyes with the doctor. "Spectres don't have panic attacks."

Dr. Chakwas let out a short, disapproving grunt. "Well, this one does." Softening her voice, she rested a hand on the Commander's shoulder. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Commander. With everything you've been through lately," she absently glanced over at the coffin sitting on the other side of the room, "I'm surprised you've held it together for so long."

"What are you saying?"

"Well…" Dr. Chakwas backed away, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable. "I don't want to put words in your mouth, Commander, but… how many funerals have you been to in the last month?"

Shepard didn't answer

"How many grieving parents have sought comfort from you? How many press conferences have you been forced to attend? How many times has someone referred to you as 'The Savior of the Citadel?' How many times have you had to hide on your ship so the press wouldn't hound you?"

"Get to the point, doctor."

Dr. Chakwas leaned against the table opposite Commander Shepard. "The point, Commander, is that you have been under enormous stress, continually, for a month straight. Add to that any latent effects of the Prothean beacons… Everyone, even Spectres, have a breaking point. I believe we've found yours." The doctor leaned in a little closer. "Tell me, Commander. Before you came into the medical bay, did anything happen to you? Anything stressful that might have triggered this attack?"

"………_Shepard, do you wish to end our relationship?"_

"………_Do I embarrass you, Shepard?"_

"No. No, I can't think of anything."

Dr. Chakwas abruptly stood and walked away. "Very well, Commander. Have it your way." She walked over to her desk, and began typing something into her console. "I would recommend a days rest for you, but under the circumstances, I know that's impossible."

"That's an understatement."

The doctor walked back to Shepard, and handed her a small silver cylinder. "This holds half a dose of the same sedative I just gave you. If you feel another attack coming on, use it."

"Thanks, doctor." Shepard stood, straightening her jacket. "Sorry about -"

The mess Shepard had made was gone.

"Self sanitizing floors, Commander" the doctor chuckled. "My favorite piece of medical technology."

Shepard couldn't help but smile slightly. "Right…" Looking up from the floor, her gaze fell upon the large steel box that sat ominously in the corner.

"_Even paradise gets boring after awhile."_

The voice echoed in Annika's head. "Doctor," she pleaded, "I'd like a moment alone, if you don't mind."

Dr. Chakwas cast a final glance at the coffin. "Of course, Commander." Without another word, she walked out the door, and Annika Shepard was alone again.

* * *

"_I'm hungry for some real action."_

As she stood over the flag-draped coffin, the memories of that day came flooding back. She should've kept a closer eye on him. She should've held him back, should've made sure he didn't do anything foolish. But she didn't. 

For three seconds.

She took her eyes off of him for three seconds. That was all it took for Corporal Jenkins to step out from behind cover, advance too far, and get gunned down by the Geth. The scene played out in her mind; his body, limp and unmoving. The smell of burning rubber and scorched flesh hung thick in the air.

"_They ripped right through his shields" _Lt. Alenko lamented. _"He never had a chance."_

"Kaiden," she whispered.

Shepard's friend and confidant never handled death particularly well. Whether it was because of his experiences on Jump Zero, or just his caring heart, she never knew for sure. She could still see his face, revulsion and sadness written all over it. When he looked into her eyes after pronouncing the young corporal dead, she knew what he needed to hear.

"_We'll see that he receives a proper service once the mission is complete, but I need you to stay focused."_

And he did stay focused. Through themissions on Eden Prime, Feros, Noveria, and Virmire, he remained her steadfast companion; her right hand man. But now he was dead too, because of an order she gave, and there would be no flag-draped coffin for the Lieutenant. There would be no closure for his family. There would be no burial on a hill. 

All because of her. 

So now, more for Kaiden than anyone else, Commander Shepard was going to keep her promise. She was going to give Richard Jenkins a proper service.

Running her fingers across the flag's soft fabric, Shepard began to feel a tingling behind her eyes. She shook her head, trying to stem the tide of guilt that was once again washing over her. It did no good; she was too weak, and the pull was too strong. Annika couldn't hold back the memories, and she was swept back to that distant tropical world. 

"_I understand, Commander. I don't regret a thing."_

On top of that tower on Virmire, she faced the toughest decision of her military career. The way she saw it, there was only one correct choice; Saren's base had to be destroyed. The bomb had to go off. She couldn't risk Williams getting overrun. 

She couldn't leave her friend behind either. 

Her only option was to save **both** of them. But how? Years of tactical training kicked in, and in a flash, she knew what had to be done. 

Run back to Williams…

Destroy the Geth ground forces…

Board the Normandy…

Destroy the Geth drop ship…

Scoop up Alenko…

Get the hell out of there.

She didn't expect Saren himself to show up and seal her friend's fate. Even when that monster held her by the throat, she didn't worry about losing her own life. Instead, her thoughts were of her friend. When she brought her fist down on Saren's head, she brought with it the fear of Kaiden's impending death, and the desperate need she felt to save him. But it was already too late.

"Kaiden, I am so sorry."

In that split second between the blinding flash of light and the end of everything, what did he think? Did he blame her? Did he suffer? Did he feel the flesh getting torched off his bones before the blast wave hit him? She'd never know. She left him there.

Shepard shut her eyes, clenched her fists, and slammed them into the steel casket. 

_Spectres don't panic. Spectres don't cry._

Deep in her gut, that sense of something unwinding returned. Months of suppressed anger and sorrow began to break the chains she had wrapped them in. Her lips began to quiver; tears pushed through her eyelids and started rolling down her cheeks.

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Shepard……"

Without turning around, she spoke to Liara in short, harried breaths. "I thought I told you to let me do this alone."

"And I did…… until I decided not to." Liara squeezed Annika's shoulder, and tried in vain to turn her around.

"Liara, please. I don't want you to see me like this."

"But you forget, Shepard. I already have." Liara spoke in hushed tones as she wrapped her arms around her lover's waist. "When we joined, our minds became one. All of your memories, all of your experiences, everything that makes you the woman you are, they are now part of me as well." 

Shepard still refused to turn around. She reached up, and used the sleeves of her uniform to wipe away the tears that were streaming down her face. "So then you should know that I mourn alone."

"I do, but I will not let you do so any longer." Liara leaned in close, and rested her head on Shepard's shoulder. When she spoke, her mouth was mere inches from the Commander's ear. "I saw you on Mindoir, and on Akuze. I sensed the guilt you suffered over Lieutenant Alenko's death. I felt the pain that you keep hidden, even from yourself."

Shepard began to tremble as she choked on muffled sobs. 

"If you want to keep our bond hidden, then so be it. I only ask that you do not keep your heart hidden from _me_ as well." 

Shepard felt Liara pull back, and tug on her shoulder once more. This time, shedid not resist. Shepard turned around, and collapsed into the Asari's arms. They wrapped around her, held her tight, and did not let go until every last tear was dry.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Sorry this update took so long. I had originally planned on introducing a new plot thread here that would have eventually served as a jumping off point for a future story. But no matter how many times I rewrote it, it just didn't work. It felt out of place. So I ate the bullet, and dumped the whole thing. Anyway, this chapter differs from the rest in that neither main character appears. I felt that after all the drama of chapter 4, the story needed a breather before moving into the third act. I'd love to know what you think. Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is owned by Bioware and Microsoft. Sometimes, you've gotta let those hard-to-reach chips go.

* * *

**Rise Above or Sink Below**

Chapter 5

* * *

"So, what was it like?"

"What was 'what' like?"

"You know… working with her. Being right there, fighting alongside her… it must've been incredible."

Ashley Williams stood in the Jenkins' backyard, and stared back at the constable. She felt a sudden throbbing behind her eyes, and did her best not to cringe. She was only partially successful. Even after a month of being asked the same question over and over, hearing it still made her blood boil. Folding her arms, she took a long, deep breath before responding. "Well, Constable… I'm sorry, I forgot your name."

"Oh… Monroe, ma'am. Shane Monroe."

"Shane, right. And you two?" Williams pointed to the two young men who were standing a few yards away, listening in on their conversation.

"Oh, uhhh… Ben Cole, ma'am."

"Riley McMasters. We were both friends of Rich."

"Right" Williams replied. "Anyway, Shane… Commander Shepard is a damn fine soldier. In fact, she's the finest soldier I've ever served with, but all of you had better remember something." Williams locked eyes with the young constable, and then did the same with the other two men. "Annika Shepard is a person; a human being, just like the rest of us. You're not doing her, or the uniform she wears, any favors by acting like she's a damn superhero."

For a moment, the three men stood in silence, not knowing how to react to the Chief's statement. Finally, Monroe spoke up. "Gotcha, just a human being" he replied.

"Yeah, a sexy as all hell human being."

"Hey!" Monroe snapped.

"Sorry, ma'am" Riley blurted out. "We knocked back a few before coming over here, and Ben's always had a thing for redheads."

"I've always had a thing for women who could kick my ass." Cole retorted.

Ashley clenched her fists, and for an instant, seriously considered shattering Ben Cole's jaw. "Drunk at your friend's funeral, huh boys?"

"Hey, it's what Richey woulda wanted" Ben replied, with Riley vigorously shaking his head in agreement.

"Tell you what," Ashley approached Ben and Riley, and grabbed them each by the neck. "Why don't you two take a seat over there, and keep quiet" she whispered in their ears. "And if I hear another word out of either of you, I'm gonna punch you in the mouth so hard, you'll be shitting out teeth for a week."

The two men exchanged nervous glances. Without another word, they turned, and walked away.

"Sorry about that, Chief" the constable called out. "I'm sure they didn't mean to cause any trouble."

As Ashley walked up to him, she flashed a quick grin. "Trouble?" she answered. "Everyone mourns in their own way, Shane. Just keep an eye on them, OK?"

"Sure thing, Chief."

"Good. I'm going around front."

* * *

Sitting on the front porch of the Jenkins homestead, Ashley Williams shook her head in disbelief. Predatory reporters, doe eyed policemen, and drunken guests; this was shaping up to be an eventful morning. Still, Eden Prime was just about the last place she wanted to be. Staring down at her feet, she idly kicked a stone off the porch, and watched as it rolled across the driveway.

"Damn rocks" she whispered. Keying up her omni tool, she scrolled through her messages until she found the right one. The one that had been haunting her for a month. The one that she prayed said something different every time she read it.

_To: Gunnery Chief Williams, Ashley _

_CC: Commander Shepard, Annika_

_You are hereby ordered to report immediately to Fort Futenma, Okinawa, Japan for reassignment to Advanced Combat Against Synthetics division. Activation in ACAS will commence upon completion of mandatory debriefing and psychological evaluation._

_FIFTH FLEET COMMAND_

The breeze picked up, and Ashley gazed out across the plains of Eden Prime. Beyond the corn fields, rolling hills spread out towards the horizon like waves on an endless green ocean. Young corn stalks began to rustle and sway in rhythm with the warm gusts. The wind carried with it the sound of a dog barking in the distance, and the aromatic pollen of some unseen flowering tree. The air was rich with the sounds and smells of a world brimming with life. It was a truly magnificent day, and Ashley Williams could not have cared less.

As beautiful as it was, Eden Prime was still just a rock. Ashley had spent her entire military career on rocks, and she had reached the conclusion long ago that every one of them was exactly the same. All they did was keep her from where she wanted to be; in space, on a starship.

Serving aboard the Normandy had given her a taste of what life amongst the stars was like. After helping save the entire galaxy, she hoped that her family's honor would finally be restored. She hoped that her days of serving planet side would finally be over. Her hopes were quickly dashed. Sovereign's wreckage had barely been cleared when Commander Shepard gave her the bad news.

"_I'm sorry, Williams" _she said, handing Ashley and OSD,_"but you've been reassigned to ACAS. I did everything I could to fight this, but you've become a hot commodity. A marine who survived engagements with every known type of Geth is extremely valuable to Alliance Command."_

And just like that, she was back on a rock.

Ashley switched off her omni tool, and stood. _Shake it off and fall in, Williams_ she thought. _Time to get suited up._ Grabbing her duffle bag, she turned, and walked into the house.

* * *

Stepping through the front door of the Jenkins farmhouse was like traveling back in time three hundred years. Wooden floorboards creaked and groaned under her feet. The carpet was worn down to almost nothing in places, and its floral design was badly faded. The walls were dotted with framed photographs hung with nails, and the lighting was controlled with mechanical switches.

Walking over to a large photograph, a Jenkins family portrait, Ashley recognized Richard and his father. There was also a woman in the photo, apparently the Corporal's mother. Running her fingers along the ornate wooden frame, Ashley studied the intricacies of the design. Impressions of crops and flowers melded with abstract waves and loops. The gold paint was cracked and chipped, and a few small specs came off on the Chief's fingers.

"Carved that pattern myself."

Ashley spun around, momentarily startled by the voice behind her. "Huh? Oh, you mean this?" she asked, looking back at the frame. "It's uhhh… very nice."

"No it ain't" Leonard half-chuckled, "not to you anyways."

"Is it that obvious?" she answered, nonchalantly wiping the flecks of paint off her hands. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jenkins. I'm just not used to all this 'antique' stuff."

"Don't worry; it'll take a hell of a lot more than that to get me riled." Leonard began to walk away towards the kitchen. "Can I get you sumthin to drink, Chief Williams?"

"Sure. A glass of water would be nice."

"How about a scotch on the rocks?"

"Even better."

Following Leonard into the kitchen, Ashley was surprised at the number of modern appliances that were scattered around the room.

Leonard handed her a glass of the amber liquid. "What is it, Chief?"

Ashley took a quick sip, gritting her teeth as the whiskey slid down her throat. "What do you mean?"

"What did ya expect to see in here? A microwave oven? Maybe a hand cranked washing machine?"

"No, no…" Ashley shook her head, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. "I just… judging by the rest of your house, I thought maybe you were one of those 'anti-technology' types."

Leonard downed his whiskey in one, long gulp. "Well, yer right. Mostly, anyhow" Leonard gestured around the room, "All this stuff, this was all Mona's doing."

"Mona… the woman in the picture?"

"Yeah, that's her. She's dead too."

"I'm sorry, I…"

"Ahhh, save it" the old man waved off her sympathies. "Anyhow, she was always buggin me to move into one of them pre-fab modular homes. There was no way I was gonna do that, so this here 'modern' kitchen was our compromise."

"Well, it's…… nice."

As Ashley took another sip of her drink, Leonard refilled his. The room fell into an awkward silence as she searched for something to say. Ashley ran a finger along the lip of her glass, and gave the contents a swirl before downing what was left.

"More?" Leonard asked, holding up the bottle.

"No, one's enough" Ashley answered, resting the glass on the nearest counter. "Thanks."

The only response she got from Leonard was a grunt as he polished off his second round. The house fell back into silence, and Ashley began to wonder if taking this trip to Eden Prime had been a mistake.

Ten sharp tones suddenly rang through the house, causing Ashley to almost jump out of her boots.

"Relax, Chief" Leonard grumbled. "It's just the grandfather clock."

"Oh, the grandfather clock" Ashley answered. "Wait, the _what_?"

Leonard let out a heavy sigh, and began to walk into an adjacent room. He motioned for her to follow. "Come on, I'll show ya."

Ashley entered what appeared to be an office, or more aptly, what used to be an office. An old wooden desk sat across from a large window that looked out onto the back yard. Maps and calendars dotted the walls, and stacks of old books littered the floor. A vague musty smell hung in the air.

"Here she is" Leonard pronounced.

There, standing in the far corner of the room, was the oddest looking clock Ashley had ever seen. It stood over six feet tall, was made out of wood, and contained some kind of mechanism that swung back and forth behind an ornately decorated glass door.

"That's a clock?" she asked.

"Yep. Hand wound, weight driven, eight day movement" Leonard remarked, sounding somewhat less withdrawn than he was just a moment before. "This here contraption has been in my family eight generations."

"Eight?" Ashley baulked.

"Hard to believe, ain't it?" Leonard gingerly placed a hand on his heirloom. "My father had this thing shipped all the way from Earth way back when he first settled here."

Ashley approached the clock, picking up on its muffled ticking for the first time. "That must've cost him a small fortune."

"I reckon it did" Leonard answered, his voice suddenly softer. "This thing was more than a clock to him, though. I laughed at him back then, but he called it a 'life jacket' for our family."

"Life jacket?"

"Yeah, my dad was a bit of a…" Leonard rubbed the stubble on his chin, trying to find the right words, "a romantic, I guess you could say. When I was just a little thing, he'd plop me down in front of this clock, and teach me how to work it, care for it, even make parts for it if need be."

"What does that have to do with the whole 'life jacket' thing?"

Leonard shuffled his feet, and stared down at the floor. "Well, he used to gimme this speech. He'd say that the clock kept memories afloat. It kept all the memories he had of his father alive in his mind. It did the same for his father, and his father before that, and so on, and so forth. He said it would do the same for me, and for my children. He used to warn me that if I let the clock fall apart, all those memories would 'sink below the surface of time,' or some nonsense like that, anyway."

"And if you let them sink, they'd be lost forever."

Leonard looked up at Ashley, and she could see that his eyes had become slightly red. "Pretty sentimental, wouldn't ya say, Chief?"

"There's nothing wrong with being sentimental, Mr. Jenkins" Ashley responded, "especially when it comes to your own family."

Leonard grimaced, and waived off Ashley's comment. "It's all bullshit. What good is this thing now?" Leonard's voice began to tremble as he gestured at the antique clock. "All those years caring for this machine, it was all for nothing. It all ends with me."

"But…"

"My son will be rotting in the dirt, all the memories will be lost, and this damn clock will still be ticking. Tell me, Chief. Tell me how that makes sense."

Ashley opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut. She couldn't think of anything to say. Ashley hesitated, then reached out and placed a hand on Leonard's shoulder. "But what were all the charms to me, when one sweet breath of memory came gently wafting by? And called my willing soul away, from earth, and air, and sky."

Leonard pulled a tattered handkerchief from his pocket, and dabbed it under his eyes. "What kinda nonsense was that?"

Ashley let go of his shoulder, and slowly pulled away from the grieving father. "Uhhh… Anne Bronte, a 19th century poet from Earth" she explained, feeling somewhat self-conscious. "I sorta have a thing for poetry. It's a long story."

Leonard let out a disapproving grunt. "Like I said… bullshit."

Ashley opened her mouth to respond, but quickly changed her mind again. Folding her arms, she turned back towards the clock. The two of them stood in silence for a long time, listening to the machine methodically tick away the seconds. It was Leonard, in a hushed, almost embarrassed tone, who finally spoke.

"Did you… Did you know Richard?"

"No, he…… I never got to meet him, no."

"He was a good man."

"Everyone on the Normandy really liked him."

"I miss him."

"I know" Ashley answered. "You'll see him again, Leonard."

"Ya think?"

"I know."

A new noise suddenly began to emanate from the clock. The etched glass façade of the timepiece was vibrating. A faint whine in the distance quickly grew into a roar, and the entire house was momentarily plunged into darkness as something huge passed overhead.

"Awww, shit." Ashley bolted from the office, grabbed her duffle bag, and ran back in. "Leonard, where's your bathroom?"


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: I want to take a moment to thank everyone for your kind words. The last few months have been rough, and while I won't bore you with details, I'll just say that my life is profoundly different than it was back in April. But I'm still here, and I finally have some new chapters ready. The narrative style in this chapter differs from the rest of the story. I realize it's a bit jarring, but that's actually the effect I was going for.

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is owned by Bioware and Microsoft.

* * *

**Rise Above or Sink Below**

Chapter Six

* * *

I prop my head up on one hand, and gaze longingly at the naked form lying next to me. The mid morning sun filters through the bedroom window, soaking into her freckled skin. Entranced by the soft white flesh, I lazily run a finger up her inner thigh, feeling muscles flinch beneath my touch. "Ticklish, huh?" I tease.

"You should talk, Annie," exclaims the young woman. "I'll show you ticklish." Rolling on top of me, she straddles my waist, and begins dancing her fingers across my stomach.

"No, no, stop," I giggle, "seriously, stop! Oh my god!" My whole body begins to twitch, and I try in vain to free myself, spastically kicking the mattress beneath me in frustration.

"God can't save you," the young woman purrs. "You're mine, Annika Shepard. Now tell me… who's more ticklish?"

My giggles turn into fits of hysterical laughter as I gasp for breath. "Sam, please!" I squeal. "Seriously, your parents are gonna hear me!"

"My folks are harvesting the north field," Sam replies, continuing her onslaught. "They could be miles away."

"OK! OK, you win!" I scream, thrashing underneath the young woman's restraint. "Stop! I'm more ticklish, I'm more ticklish! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!"

Sam brings her attack to an abrupt end, and stares down at me. I'm breathless and blushing. She places a hand on my head, and plays with my short red hair as a smirk spreads across her face. When my breathing finally slows, Sam reaches down, and brushes her wrist against my cheek. "Tomboy," she calls me.

"Blondie," I shoot back.

Sam giggles as she leans down, and places a soft kiss on my lips.

I feel strands of curly blond hair float across my face as I stare into the young woman's piercing blue eyes. I let out a short gasp as Sam's mouth again touches mine, with far more passion than before. I slowly part my lips, allowing Sam's tongue to enter and mingle with my own. Our bodies slowly intertwine, legs tangling together in a feverish knot. Running my hands up and down her back, I teasingly dig my fingernails into Sam's supple behind. She moans with desire, pulling away from my mouth. After pausing a moment to catch her breath, Sam hungrily nibbles on my neck, then begins to trail kisses down my chest.

"Oh, Sam…" I whisper.

A warm sensation begins to grow between my legs as Sam's lips continue their downward path. I close my eyes, and bite my lower lip in anticipation. Running my fingers through her hair, I fill my hands with the long blond tresses, and smile at the thought of the pleasure to come. I feel the mattress move as Sam repositions herself to…

"What the fuck?"

My eyes snap open at the sound of Sam's exclamation. She is on her knees, staring out the window behind her bed, a puzzled look on her face.

"What?"

"There's uhhh… there's smoke coming from the village," she answers.

I hastily flip around, and peer out the window. Columns of thick, black smoke are clearly visible, rising high above the far-off settlement. Cracking the window open, we can hear the sound of air raid sirens blaring in the distance. Out in the field, we can barely make out Sam's mother driving a tractor back towards the house… directly through her crop of high yield wheat.

"Sam, what's going on?"

"And why is my mom flattening our crop?"

"Maybe we should put some clothes on."

"Yeah."

.

.

.

I take my bike out from behind some bushes, and quickly hop on. I key the startup sequence, and the electric motor whirs to life.

"There's nothing on the wireless but static," Sam's mother tells me. "You should stay here, Annie. We'll barricade ourselves down in the root cellar. There's food and water down there, enough to last a few days. The Alliance should be here by then… God willing."

"My parents don't know where I am," I say, "they're gonna kill me."

"If you leave, the slavers will kill you anyway," Sam shouts.

"Samantha!" her mother snaps. As if to back up her statement, a group of small ships appear in the sky. They buzz the farmhouse at tree-top level, and fly on towards the settlement, firing randomly at the ground.

I glance over at Sam, who is cradling her baby brother. She has a rifle slung over her shoulder, and tears are streaming down her face. She looks terrified.

"I'll be alright," I say to Sam, "I promise, OK?"

Her mother frowns, looks at her daughter, then back at me. In her eyes, I see a flash of realization, but she says nothing. She stares at the ground for a moment, then nods to herself, and locks eyes with me. From behind her vest, she pulls out a small pistol, and places it in my hands.

"Have you ever shot one of these?" she asks me.

I've never even held a gun, let alone fired one. I nod anyway, and hastily wedge it under my belt.

"Stay off the main roads, and keep out of sight," the older woman tells me.

My heart is pounding as I glance back at Sam once more. "I'll see you soon," I say. I hit the throttle, and drive away.

.

.

.

From where I lay, hidden in the corn field, I gaze panic stricken at my front yard. My father is dead. He lays twisted and broken on the grass, and it looks like part of his head is missing. My mother is on her knees beside him. There's a strange looking man holding a gun to her head. He's huge; at least seven feet tall, and the skin on his bald head is a bizarre shade of yellow.

"Where's the young one?" he barks. "The one you have pictures of inside… where is it?"

"I… I don't know," my mother replies. She's crying so hard, I can barely understand her.

I look at my father again, and I'm overcome with a sudden wave of nausea. I vomit into the dirt as my stomach nearly turns itself inside out. My body is wracked with chills, and I can feel my sanity start to slip away. The horror that I am witnessing sends my mind into a tailspin of denial. Part of me insists that what my eyes are seeing can't possibly be real.

Through my mounting hysteria, I somehow remember the pistol tucked under my belt. I gingerly pull it out, and point it at the man. My hands are shaking so violently that I have a hard time holding the gun steady.

_Shoot, _I tell myself. _Shoot!_

The strange man cracks the butt of his weapon against my mother's skull, and she lets out a terrible shriek. "Tell me where it is, or I burn the house down, with it inside."

_Shoot! _I feel tears crawling down my cheeks.

"I told you," my mother cries, "she's not here. I don't know where-"

For a fraction of a second, I wonder how my gun fired without me pulling the trigger. Then I see my mother fall face first into the ground, steam rising from the strange man's weapon.

I snap.

I scramble to my feet, crying out in a rage. I shoot. One, two, three, four times… The strange man dives to the ground. I run out from my hiding place, squeezing the trigger over and over. I barely notice the sound of rounds impacting the house, the grass, and the ship parked close by. I keep firing until the gun suddenly jams. Looking down, I see that the barrel is glowing red hot.

"You overheated it, two eyes."

I look up to see the strange looking man rise from behind the front porch steps.

"You need to work on your aim too," he says.

He races toward me, his long legs eating up the distance between us at an incredible rate. I freeze, dumbfounded. The smoking gun in my hand, the monster racing towards me, the bodies of my parents lying face down in the dirt…

It's too much.

My legs want to run, but my heart just wants it to be over.

In an instant, the man is on me, smacking the pistol out of my hand. He grabs me by the throat, and lifts me up into the air. He looks into my eyes with four of his own, each one black as night. His lips curl into a sickening grin, revealing a set of pointed teeth.

"Yes, you're the one," he says, "you're the offspring of those humans." He takes a few seconds to look me up and down, pinching my arms, legs, and chest with his enormous hands. "Hmmm… you are in excellent condition. You will make a fine slave."

"No!" I scream, kicking and flailing my arms. "Just…" I feel his grip around my neck tighten, and I begin to choke. Gasping for air, I plead with the monster.

"Just kill me."

The man chuckles under his breath as he raises a long knife towards my face. "Kill you?" he laughs, "no, I don't think so. I have plans for you." He touches the blade to my cheek, just below my right eye. "I'm giving you my brand, two eyes. It may cause you pain now, but believe me… you will come to cherish it in time."

I flinch as the knife enters my flesh, carving a deep crescent shape across my cheek. The pain seems distant somehow, more of a dull ache than an agonizing sting. The four-eyed man's laughter becomes muted, as does the cacophony of explosions and gunfire that had been echoing relentlessly in the background. My arms and legs start to tingle as my head grows increasingly heavy. I quit struggling, go limp, and shut my eyes…

I feel a sudden release of pressure from around my neck, and I hit the ground hard. I cough violently as my lungs scream for air. Blinking repeatedly to clear my vision, I see the four eyed man running for his ship, firing his weapon wildly behind him. A handful of colonists emerge from the cornfield, firing back at the man.

As I stagger to my feet, I see one of the colonists waving his arms at me. He's yelling for me to get behind him. I look back towards the four-eyed man, just in time to see the main hatch of his ship slam shut. The colonists continue firing, their rounds ricocheting off the ship's hull.

The cannons mounted under the wings of the ship begin to glow.

I turn and run back into the corn, away from both the ship and the colonists. I run headlong into the stalks, not knowing where my legs were taking me. I run without direction or purpose; just the primal need to get away. In the distance, I hear blasts of heavy weapons fire, followed by the whine of a ship taking off.

.

.

.

Rounding a corner, I glimpse the charred ruins of the house, smoke still rising into the grey, lifeless sky. I make my way up the lawn, blackened grass crunching under my feet, until I reach her window. The window that I used to tap on late at night, waiting to sneak inside, is now nothing buts bits of shattered glass.

It was the window from which I first laid eyes on the hell that now surrounds me.

I crawl into the partially collapsed house, through the smoke, ash, and debris. It takes considerable effort, but I manage to find a way down to the root cellar.

No one is there.

It's empty, save for a number of bullet holes, a few splatters of blood, and a clump of mangled blond hair on the floor. Somewhere deep inside me, my last candle of hope flickers and dies.

I climb back outside, and walk down to the pond nearby. Kneeling at the shore, I stare down at a reflection I barely recognize. Streaks of dried blood, trailing away from a long crescent gash, cover one whole side of my face. Bruises in the shape of hand prints line my neck. Dark rings hang below my weary eyes. Looking out over the water, I absently try to remember the last time I slept. Or the last time I heard any shouting… or gunshots… or ships flying overhead…

I'm alone.

I start to cry. I cry until my sleeves are soaked with tears. I cry until my chest aches and my throat is raw. I cry until all I can hear is the pounding of my own shattered heart.

.

_"Shepard…?"_

_._

I hear something splash in the water, and I suddenly realize that I'm not alone after all. Wiping the tears away, I see the figure of a man standing close by. He's dressed head to toe in navy blue armor, and there's a military style helmet hiding his face.

He's skipping rocks across the pond.

"H… Hello?" I ask, my voice still hoarse from sobbing. For some unknown reason, I'm not afraid.

The man sends one last stone skipping across the water. "Almost made it across that time," he says.

"Huh?" Something about his voice… gruff, strong, and strangely familiar.

The man turns towards me, and casually removes his helmet. He's human. I've never seen him before, but somehow, I know him. His face… the chiseled jaw line, the dark, penetrating eyes, the wedge haircut… I know him.

"The stone, Commander," he says, "it almost reached the other side."

"Ka… Kaiden?" I ask.

The water has changed. It's now a shimmering, tropical shade of blue. The scorched earth I was kneeling on is gone, replaced by warm, white sand.

"It was a nice one," he says, "perfect for skipping."

Looking up, I see cliffs covered in luscious plant growth, and a cobalt blue sky above dotted with clouds. A strong sea breeze fills my lungs with salty air…

"I'll go in and find it," he says, stepping into the water.

"Kaiden, wait!"

He looks back at me, and our eyes meet. "Don't worry, Commander. I don't regret a thing."

He dives beneath the surface, trailing a chain behind him; a chain that is wrapped around my feet. I frantically try to untangle it, but the slack soon runs out, and I'm yanked towards the water. I claw at the sand, desperately searching for something to grab onto.

Something to keep me from being pulled under…

* * *

.

.

_"Shepard…?"_

_._

_._

* * *

Commander Shepard's eyes fluttered momentarily before opening. The dim lighting of her quarters made it difficult for her eyes to focus. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she blinked repeatedly to clear the cobwebs from her mind.

She felt a hand gently brush the hair away from her eyes.

"Shepard? Shepard, please… you must wake up."

Lifting her head off the pillow, she laid eyes on the angelic face of her lover, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. "Liara?" she sputtered. "How long…?"

"Thirty nine minutes, Shepard," Liara answered, stroking the Commander's cheek. "We will be arriving at Eden Prime shortly."

Shepard's already ragged heart skipped a beat. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. In all her years of service, she had never fallen asleep while on duty. Of course, she had never suffered a panic attack either. "I don't even remember lying down," she muttered. "This day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"Perhaps the sedative you received…" Liara paused, placing a hand on the Commander's chest. "Your heart is _racing_, Shepard. Perhaps, before we land, you should see Dr. Chakwas again."

Shepard sat up, using Liara's shoulder to steady herself. She sat quietly for a moment, contemplating what to say. "I just had a bad dream," she sighed, "that's all."


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note: This chapter has gone through so many rewrites, I've lost count. I'm still not 100% satisfied with it, but I guess that's life. As always, your input (both positive and negative) is greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is owned by Bioware and Microsoft.

* * *

**Rise Above or Sink Below**

Chapter Seven

* * *

In the stillness of her quarters, Annika Shepard studied herself in the mirror. Turning her head from side to side, she frowned at what she saw. The Commander tucked her smooth red hair behind her ears, and let out a heavy sigh. "I look like hell."

Liara sat on the bed behind the Commander, her hands folded neatly in her lap. "Shepard," she responded, "there is nothing wrong with your appearance."

"Are you blind?" Shepard quipped, as she leaned in close to her reflection. "My eyes are bloodshot, my hair is a mess, my face…" Shepard's voice trailed off as she began rummaging through a drawer below the mirror.

"You are creating needless anxiety for yourself," Liara pleaded, rising up to stand beside the Commander.

"Needless?" Shepard balked. "You may not have to worry about these things, but I do." The Commander pulled a brush out of the drawer, and began hastily running it through her hair. "Were you listening to me earlier? The goddamn '_Savior of the Citadel_' can't go out in public looking like she just had an emotional…… meltdown."

Liara reached out and placed a hand on the Commander's shoulder. "Perhaps you are still experiencing some effects of your panic attack."

The Commander dropped her brush back in the drawer, and slammed it shut. "Spectres don't…… oh, forget it."

"Spectres don't… _what_?"

Shepard shuffled past the Asari, and sank into her desk chair. "I said _forget it,_ OK?"

The desk monitor flickered to life, displaying a live feed from the navigation computer. Two icons representing the Normandy and Eden Prime were nearly on top of eachother. They were almost there. Shepard stared at the screen and absently rapped her fingers on the table top.

_Don't worry, Commander. I don't regret a thing._

"Can I…" Shepard mumbled, staring at the projection in front of her, "Can I ask you something, Liara?"

"What is it, Shepard?"

"You have to promise to be honest with me."

"Always."

"Do you think I deserve to be called a hero?"

The bluntness of the question apparently caught Liara off guard. "Of… of course, you do," she sputtered, clumsily sitting back down on the bed. "Shepard, you saved the entire-"

"No, I didn't," Shepard retorted, cutting Liara off mid-sentence. "Everyone keeps saying that… but it's not true. I didn't save the galaxy. At best, I only delayed an invasion. And I didn't even do it alone. If it wasn't for you, Tali, Williams…… _Kaiden_…"

Liara wistfully shook her head at the Commander's words. "I do not need to be called a _hero_ to feel proud of what we accomplished, and I am certain that Tali and Chief Williams feel the same as I."

"That's just it!" Shepard snapped, spinning her chair around to face the young Asari. "I don't need to be called a hero either… I don't even _want_ to be called a hero."

"I apologize, Shepard. I did not mean to imply-"

"All of those people… waving flags, clappings hands, cheering me on… they have no idea. They have no fucking idea who I am."

"They are-"

"Yesterday, I saw a man in the wards selling t-shirts with my face on them. And people were _buying _them! If they only knew…"

"Knew what?"

"That I'm not a savior of anything, Liara. It's a lie. It's a joke being told to trillions, and I'm the punch line."

"The _punch line_?"

"I'm just sick of it. I'm not the superhero everyone wants me to be, and I can't…" Shepard buried her head in her hands, "I can't fake it anymore."

"Please… Just try to-"

"What, Liara? Try to _what_?" Shepard hissed, snapping her head up to face the Asari.

Liara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Raising her hand, she pressed the palm against her forehead. "Why do you insist on thinking such self destructive thoughts?"

"Self destructive thoughts?" Shepard groaned.

"You are intentionally trying to cast yourself in a negative light," Liara answered, standing up, "and you have been doing so all day."

_Don't let the spotlight you're under blind you…_

The words echoed in the Commander's head. "Maybe I am," she said under her breath.

"Why?"

"I don't know… I don't _know_!" Shepard snapped. "We '_joined_,' didn't we?"

"I… Yes… but…"

"You downloaded everything I know, right? Can't you just '_embrace eternity_,' and answer your own question?"

"That is not how…" Liara cut herself off, and her eyes widened in surprise, "You are mocking me, Shepard."

"Oh, give me a break!" Shepard sighed heavily, leaned forward, and buried her head in her hands once more. "No, I'm not."

Liara's posture stiffened, and her eyes narrowed. When she spoke, it was with an air of detachment Shepard hadn't heard in a long time. "Yes, you are," she stated, "and by pushing me away when I get too close, you are also doing precisely what I asked you not to do."

Shepard's gaze fell to the floor as she slowly shook her head in denial. Liara was right, and she knew it. Yet she said nothing.

Liara stood motionless, seemingly waiting for a response from Shepard. When none came, she turned, and headed for the door. "Very well," she said, her voice calm but cold, "I see no point in continuing this conversation any further. I will meet you on the hangar deck when we land, Commander."

_Commander? _

Shepard's gaze remained fixed to the floor until she heard the door to her quarters slide open. "Liara, wait…" she called. The Asari kept walking, and the door slid shut, leaving the Commander alone.

Shepard's heart sank down into her boots. She sat motionless, her lover's words echoing in her mind. "What the hell just happened?" she whispered. The only other time she had ever seen Liara visibly angry was back on Noveria, when she tried and failed to stop her mother from destroying herself.

_How could I have been so callous?_

She felt a familiar tightness return to her chest, and her head began to throb. The lights in the room seemed to flicker and darken, and she had the vague sensation of the walls beginning to close in around her.

_Nope… no way… get a hold of yourself, soldier._

Shepard tried to slow her breathing, to calm the building storm. But no matter how deeply she inhaled, she couldn't seem to catch her breath.

_Goddamnit, no!_

It was happening again. There was a roaring in her ears, as if an unseen tidal wave was about to come crashing down on her. Shepard rose, staggered across the room, and grabbed a small silver cylinder out of the drawer. She clenched it in her hand, her thumb hovering over the inject button. Out of the corner of her eye, Shepard glimpsed her reflection in the mirror.

She froze.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" she asked the empty room, as the pounding in her head grew stronger. For a moment, the face of a much younger Shepard, her face smeared with blood and ash, stared back at her from the mirror. Behind the young woman, a massive wall of water was approaching, and about to break. The Commander closed her eyes tight, forcing the image out of her thoughts.

The sound of the door sliding open caught Shepard off guard, nearly causing her to drop the medication. Her eyes snapped open, and she spun around in surprise.

As abruptly as she had walked out, Liara strode back into the room with a determined look on her face. "Twice in your life, you have had everyone close to you taken away," she stated matter-of-factly, "once on Mindoir, and once on Akuze."

"What… what did you say?" Shepard balked, stuffing the cylinder into her pocket. "Didn't you just storm out of here?"

Liara walked up to Shepard, locking eyes with her. "Having singularly survived those combined tragedies, you have developed a defensive personality disorder that compels you to isolate yourself from others. The logic being that if you keep everyone at arm's length, you will not have to suffer the pain of loss again. Remarkably, you are able to keep this compulsion suppressed most of the time. However, the funerary nature of our mission, and the memories of Lieutenant Alenko, among others, that it evokes, have left you in an emotionally weakened state. When the unexpected media presence you are now forced to confront is factored in, it becomes apparent that the mental barriers you put in place long ago have collapsed, allowing this aspect of your personality to rapidly strengthen, and gain influence over your conscious mind."

Shepard stared blankly at the Asari a moment, her brow wrinkled in confusion. "You uhhh… you got all of that from sleeping with me?"

"Actually… no." Liara answered, suddenly self-conscious. "I… came up with most of it while waiting for the elevator."

"Oh."

"It is frustratingly slow."

"Yeah."

Liara stepped closer. "Shepard… our joining gave me echoes of emotion, memories wrapped in shadow, but little with which to make a clinical analysis."

"Clinical analysis?"

"I've been studying human psychology… in my spare time."

"Oh."

"I thought it might be useful… not that I think _you_ need psychological help. I…"

Shepard's eyes were stinging, and she blinked hard to keep her vision clear. "Liara," she said, "I'm sorry. I had no right to talk to you the way I did."

"And I had no right to walk out on you like I did," Liara answered, her eyes darting to the floor, "I should have been more understanding."

"I was the one who should've been more understanding. And technically," Shepard retorted, the slightest hint of a smirk forming in the corner of her mouth, "coming back in less than _five minutes_ negates the walk out."

"I see," Liara chuckled, "I will remember that."

The Commander's shoulders sank as the tension left her body. Her head was still pounding, but the dizziness and shortness of breath was gone. She turned back to her reflection, slowly lowered her head, and idly fondled one of the brass buttons that ran down the front of her jacket. "What am I going to do, Liara?"

"You are going to do what you have always done," Liara responded, placing a hand on the Commander's shoulder, "persevere."

"I don't want to."

"But…"

"When I persevere, people die."

"More destructive thinking…"

"It's not the thinking that's destructive," Shepard sighed, "it's me. _I'm _destructive. My mother, my father, my squad on Akuze, Jenkins, Kaiden, most of the fifth _fucking fleet,_ even my first girlfriend… all dead, because of decisions I made."

"Shepard…"

"Yet here I am, still standing. A hero… a _savior_… the irony is so think, I can barely breathe."

Liara opened her mouth to respond, but said nothing. Instead, she wrapped her slender arms around Shepard's waist, and rested her chin on the Commander's shoulder. Shepard reached down, intertwining Liara's fingers with her own. Returning her lover's gaze in the mirror, she gently leaned her head against the Asari's.

"I… I do not know how to fix this," Liara said, sounding dejected.

"I know," Shepard answered, "but it's OK. You don't have to fix me, Liara."

The two women stood silently for some time, gazing at their reflected embrace. Minutes passed without either uttering a word, both content to simply remain in each other's arms. Liara eventually looked away, as if lost in thought, but Shepard barely noticed. As hard as she tried, she couldn't keep her mind from wandering; to the medical bay, and the casket within, to the fast approaching planet, and the circus that awaited her there.

"Shepard?" Liara asked, getting no response.

"Shepard…" Liara repeated, tightening her embrace.

"What?" she absently replied.

Liara lifted her chin off the Commander's shoulder, and brought her lips to Shepard's skin, leaving a trail of soft kisses up her neck. Stopping just below her lover's ear, she asked "do you trust me?"

Shepard felt the warm breath on her neck, and Liara's chest pressing gently on her back. Inhaling deeply, she let all other thoughts slip away, and concentrated solely on the sapphire goddess holding her close. Shepard shut her eyes, and for a moment, the darkness that swirled around inside her gave way to light. "With my life," she whispered back.

"Then trust me to get you through this."

Above their heads, the intercom crackled to life. "Five minutes to touchdown, Commander." Joker's voice filled the room, once again at the most inopportune time. Still holding on tight to the hands of her Asari lover, Shepard felt the intimacy of the moment evaporate.

"Take us in nice and easy, Joker," she stated. "Nothing fancy."

"Yes ma'am," he answered. "I'm not in a fancy mood anyway."

Shepard pulled herself away, and turned to face the suddenly confident Asari. "What are you talking about, Liara?"

A beautiful smile spread across Liara's face as she reached up, and laid a finger across Shepard's lips. "Trust me," she repeated. And with that, she turned and walked out the door.

Shepard stood motionless, confounded by her lover's sudden change in mood.

"Are you coming, Commander?" Liara called from the open doorway.

Shepard reached into her pocket, relieved to feel the cold steel cylinder within. "Coming…" she answered.

* * *

The elevator came to a stop with a muffled groan. In their last moment of privacy, Shepard turned to look at the Asari standing behind her. "Thank you, Liara."

"For what?"

"I don't know yet," she answered, "but thanks."

The locks disengaged, and the elevator doors opened, gradually revealing a cargo bay that barely resembled the one Shepard had left mere hours before. Everything from the floor, to the ceiling, to the tires on the Mako had been cleaned, and there wasn't a cargo crate or pallet in sight. Her crew, all wearing their dress uniforms, lined the far wall.

In the center of the room, the flag draped casket containing the body of Corporal Richard Jenkins floated serenely, surrounded on three sides by Shepard's honor guard.

"Commander on deck!" Pressly shouted, and in unison, everyone in the room snapped to attention.

Shepard could feel her command instincts kicking in as she strode out into the room. Returning Pressly's salute, she began to make her way down the line, giving each crewmember's appearance a cursory inspection. She did a quick double take when she reached Joker's place in line. It was the first time she could ever recall seeing him without his trademark stubble and baseball cap.

The young man shifted awkwardly on his crutches. "Ma'am," he nodded.

Shepard reached out, grabbed Joker's collar, and spun around his rank pin, which he had put on upside down. "Lieutenant…" she responded, flashing him the briefest of smiles.

The Commander made her way over to the casket, and took her place as the fourth and final pallbearer. Looking over her shoulder, she gave a quick nod to Pressly, who immediately keyed his omni-tool.

A moment later, the huge bay doors of the cargo bay began to open, and Shepard had to squint at the sudden rush of sunlight that flooded into the dimly lit room. As her eyes adjusted, she could see a gathering of twenty or so people in the distance, sitting in neat rows in the backyard of an old farmhouse. She could also see at least a dozen other people roaming around the perimeter of the yard, each with their own camera pods in tow. One by one, they all came to a stop, and turned their lenses on Shepard.

The cargo bay ramp came to rest with a thud, and the Commander's attention was immediately drawn away from the reporters, and onto two figures who were making their way up the ramp. One, Shepard instantly recognized as Leonard Jenkins. He walked with a stunted gait, and steadied himself with an old fashioned wooden cane. He was dressed in a tattered suit that, by the looks of it, was older than he was. He stared up at the Commander with an expression of pained anticipation.

Shepard met the old man's gaze, steeled herself as best she could for what was about to begin, and walked down to meet him.

"Leonard Jenkins…" Shepard stated, extending her hand.

"That's right," Jenkins responded, shaking the Commander's hand with a firmness that defied his fragile appearance. When their hands came together, Shepard heard a now familiar sound in the distance: the clicking of camera shutters.

"Mr, Jenkins, on behalf of the Systems Alliance, I offer my deepest - "

The old man raised his hand in a dismissive wave. "Save it, Commander." he barked. "Can we just get the ball rollin here?"

More camera clicks filled the Commander's ears. "Uhh… of course," she agreed, nodding her head a bit too vigorously. "If you want to have a seat, I'll lead the procession down to - "

"You led my boy to his death, Commander. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather you didn't lead him to his grave too."

The old man's voice wasn't overly bitter or angry, but his words caught Shepard off guard nonetheless. She could feel her mouth moving, but no words were being spoken.

"Sorry, ma'am. Leonard was hoping he could be the lead pallbearer. He's just got a funny way of asking."

Until that moment, Shepard had unwittingly ignored the person standing beside Leonard Jenkins. She turned her head towards the familiar voice, and laid eyes on a wholly unexpected sight.

"_Williams?_"


End file.
